


All in a Mouse's Night

by sarcastrow



Series: Sisters of the Moon [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastrow/pseuds/sarcastrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for TPG Birds and the Bees Challenge, Inspired by the Genesis song of the same name, with an occasional quote. A note about Mrs. Black, in Tidy Time there is a scene involving Mrs. Black, Dean, and blackmail, hence her change of heart.</p><p>Thanks to a great Beta, mlleelizabeth from HP beta resource.</p><p>Inspired by the Genesis song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in a Mouse's Night

 

 

 

 

           A light snow fell on the little park in the middle of Grimmuald place. Unknown to the Muggles who lived there, the most important house to the youth of the wizarding world shared their street. Tonight, however, it was quiet, only the five occupants of the house were in residence. The house elf had bid farewell to the evenings guests, a tall black youth and his wispy blonde girlfriend, hours earlier, and the four other humans had bade their goodnights. Dim candlelight shone from the top two bedroom windows, and a fog of steam was slowly enveloping both portals. The house elf smiled as he tidied up the sitting room, kitchen, and dining room. He was highly aware of everything going on in the house, as he had been for almost a century. The young master and his fiancé had been preparing for the wedding nearly constantly for a month. Keeping it a secret from the broader wizarding world had been difficult, but with the house elf’s help, not impossible. He wasn’t sure they would be able to keep the mother of the bride in the dark much longer though.

            “Ah mistress, a wedding, you always loved weddings in the house.” He said as he stopped at a large portrait of a stern woman on the landing.

            “Yes Kreacher, I do love weddings, and this one will be one of the best this old house has seen. Is it still a secret?”

            “Yes mistress, though Mrs. Weasley is suspicious I think.”

            “A smart one, Molly. As long as she still believes these are preparations for Ronald and Hermione, we will still be safe.  I think we can keep up the pretense a few more days, don’t you agree?”

            “Yes mistress.” The elf smiled up at her, and pointed to the vase in her portrait “Your new flowers are lovely”

           Mrs. Black reached out, drew a rose from the vase, held it to her face, and sniffed.

            “The young Muggle-born did well, didn’t he? I especially like the way Hermione incorporated Molly’s roses into the paint. I could smell the lilies he painted the first time, but no one else could; with these, everyone who passes will catch the scent. He is talented and kind, Kreacher. It was very good to see Dean and Luna again this evening.” She was silent for a moment.  “I was wrong Kreacher, all those years… all those years, and my sons,” She began to weep softly.

            “There, there Mistress. We have all made mistakes, and some have cost us dear, but the world is set right now, and we are here in it.”

            “Still, Regulus and Sirius, I wish that I had told them, had not been so…”

            “In the past Madam. They have moved on, and so have we, and so has the world. Master Harry and his friends did an amazing thing three and a half years ago, and now they get their happy ending.”

            “Yes, they do deserve it, and we will make sure that they get it, won’t we Kreacher?”

            “Absolutely Ma’am.”

 

*********************

 

            “Come up close to me. You’ll soon be warm,” Ron said as Hermione crawled shivering into their bed.

            “If we’re going to keep sharing this place with Harry and Gin after the wedding, he’s got to put in central heating!” Hermione said, and she slid over to give her cold body to Ron’s warmth.

            “Christ woman, you’re a block of ice. How d’ya get so cold just goin down the hall to the bathroom?”

           “It’s a girl thing, here, feel this,” and she shoved her cold hands down the back of his pajama bottoms, grabbing a helping of arse.

           “Yeow,” he said, involuntarily shoving the front of his body into the growing warmth of hers. “Two can play at that,” and he grabbed her bare arse, pressing her to him. “’s nice how we share one set of PJ’s, I get the bottoms, you get the tops.”

           She started to slide her hands further toward the front of his body. “Whoa up! I’m warming those hands before you get at the wedding tackle!” He reached under the covers bringing her hands up to his face. Gently covering them with his, he blew warming breaths over them.

            “Hmm… I think they’re warm enough now. I know I am.” She slid her hands from his, and stroked her way down his sides to his arse again. “I can’t believe I used to dislike Quidditch! It certainly keeps you in top shape. Gods I love your arse,” and she crushed him into a kiss. Hermione slid her hands around to his front and found him. _Two years_ , she thought, _two years and I still can’t get enough of him_. She began a gentle stroke, and kissed her way down his neck.

            “OOH Hermione… so good… love you so much,” and he had found her. Her sharp intake of breath told him she was just as ready for him as he was for her. “So wet…so good.” He slowly started a circle with his middle finger over her folds.

            “Need you in me…hmm, lov…” her words were stopped by his eager mouth.

           She had one leg up over his side, her hands between them, working a special magic that only required the “wand” she held. He had his arms around her, one hand on her arse, the other between her legs from behind, working her into the fog of lust.

            “In you, eh? Like this.”  He slid his free hand over her arse, and in one fluid movement slid the middle finger of that hand into her. She gasped and doubled the speed of her pumping, as he did the same with his fingers. He added a second finger and pressed just a bit harder with the one moving on her clit. A small keen of pleasure escaped her, as she built to her first orgasm of the night. Ron could make her come almost at will. He had taken to learning her ways, her likes, her dislikes, and the things that drove her from control with a seriousness and enthusiasm that she often chided him he should be showing in his auror studies. He knew to be slow and gentle with his touch, he knew when to go harder, and he knew at the end, to press in as far as he could with the fingers in her, and to press down on her clit with the fingers there. Hermione rocked in his arms as wave after wave of blissful release coursed through her.

            “In me…NOW!” She rolled him onto his back winding up lying on his chest. Reaching behind her back she guided him to her and took him for her own. Her hair finally gave up, and burst from its clip, spilling around them like a curtain.

            “So tight, so warm, Hmmm… I love you my wanton witch,” and he gave her a wicked smile.

            “Good, I’d be really embarrassed doing this if you didn’t.” she said, her voice husky with lust.

           Laughter; They laughed all the time now, and hardly ever had a cross word, even in the midst of bickering, which they also did regularly. The warmth of the sheets and blankets was starting to get a bit suffocating so Hermione sat up a little, and the covers slid down her back allowing some of the cold night air to flow over them. Neither minded, and she came again. Ron pulled her to him, flipped her hair over his shoulder, and rolled them over, never losing the intimate embrace.

           “My turn babe,” he said, and began to drive into her in the rhythm she loved. Slow steady deep strokes for the first few minutes, then gradually faster until he reached a gallop. He was getting there, and he saw the signs of another roiling orgasm about to overtake her. With a practiced grace he sat back on his thighs, pulled her tightly to him, slid his index and middle finger around himself at their joining, and pressed his knuckle firmly on her clit as he continued to move in her. Hermione erupted beneath him. She threw here arms around him, and crushed him to her, shouting unintelligible words at the ceiling. Ron came, saying as he usually did “OH GOD HERMIONE!”

           Minutes, many minutes later, Ron’s eyes were starting to co-operate, and things in the room were beginning to be three dimensional instead of pairs. At some point during her thunderous orgasm as the waves continued crashing against her, she had started to laugh, and then she started to cry. This had taken Ron completely by surprise the first time it happened, and he thought he had done something horribly wrong, but she had clung to him like a drowning woman, professing her love over and over. It didn’t happen often, but in the few times since that it had he had realized that these were sobs of unadulterated joy. He understood now that her orgasms varied from really nice to this, complete surrender, undone, all pretenses swept away. He had rolled them over still connected, and she was lying on him, her head under his chin as she idly caressed the soft red hair on his chest.

           The mouse had heard everything, he usually did. The people would be settling down to sleep soon, and the house would be his. The room was thick with the scent of their love making, and it sent a trill of anticipation through his little brown body. He would love his mate the same way when he returned from his forage. Peering from the hole he waited. The woman made purple lights over the man and herself, there would be a small, good-natured exchange of banter, and then they would drift off to sleep.

           He hadn’t heard any sound from the bed for a few minutes and anticipation got the best of him. The mouse could barely see in the best of conditions, and the dim candlelight in the room was certainly insufficient for anything but discerning the shapes of the furniture. Out of the hole and along the molding he scurried, his claws catching in the new carpet. Turning the corner he raced for the door. There was a loud thunk as his head impacted the closed door.

           “Bloody hell,” Ron said, “I though Crooky got the last of em”

           “ _Lumos_. There he is Ron,” Hermione said, propping herself up with a hand on Ron’s chest. “Let’s catch him, and let him go outside. You know how I hate it when Crookshanks brings us ‘presents.’”

           “Alright then, I’ll fetch a box from below.” With one long arm he reached to the bedside table for his wand “ _Accio_ box! Right, I’ll have to open the door to let the box in. Where’d he go?”

           “Under the wardrobe,” said Hermione. “Guard it carefully; they’re very quick you know.”

           “Yeah, yeah, I’m a bloody war hero. I think I can handle a mouse.”

           “Oh yes, my big strong hero,” Hermione said chuckling as she lay back down on Ron’s chest. Her fingers traced though his chest hair again and gently flicked a nipple.

           “That’s wholly and completely unfair. You know that, don’t you?”

           “Is it? Then this is really breaking the rules.”  She sat up, and began slowly grinding her hips back and forth. His stiffness had yet to subside, and he let out a low moan.

           “Am I catching a mouse, or are we going again,” he said, as he ran his hands up under the pajama top to tweak her nipples.

           “A, a moment-t, ahh,” and a little earthquake rippled through her.

           “Now that’s REALLY not fair.”

           “Hmm, says who?” she smirked down at him. “Now, get the mouse, hero boy.”

           A soft tapping on the door told them that the box had made its way up the stairwell.

           “Wench!” he said smiling. “Ok, I’ll open the door a bit and let the box in, if he makes a break for it, just… stun him or something.”

           “Or something? Oh yes, very heroic.”

           “You want me to get this mouse or not?”

           “Well, I’m not sleeping with that thing around here.”

           Ron sat up a bit, waiting to part from Hermione’s tight, warm, wet embrace until he had to. He drew her into a deep kiss, tongues tasting each other, and then slowly, regretfully, he drew himself from her.

           “I’ll do you for this mate,” he said at the mouse. Ron waved his wand at the door and it opened part way. The box from the kitchen floated into the room, and Ron made to get out of the bed. Unfortunately, in his post-coital bliss, he had forgotten that his pajama bottoms were still wrapped around his ankles. As his feet hit the floor, and he took a step toward the approaching box, his legs tangled in his sleepwear, and he fell forward, over compensated, and fell backward with a yelp. Even more unfortunately he grabbed the duvet. Ron hit the floor with a resounding thud, bringing the duvet, the sheets, and a shrieking Hermione down from the bed on top of him.

           “Style, pure style,” Hermione said, and she started to snicker.

           “S‘ not funny!” Ron said as he too started to laugh, trying to untangle himself.

           They dissolved into a heap of sheets and laughter. Hermione managed to extricate herself from the bedding first, and started to pull the sheets and blankets from around Ron. She was at the foot of the bed, bent over pulling the duvet from him, when she heard a voice from behind her.

           “Nice view, Hermione.” It was Ginny.

           As she had come through the door she had been presented with a vision that she was sure would be branded into her brain for life. Her brother, still mostly hard, was lying on the floor in a tangle of blankets. His fiancé was bending over him with her bare arse, and her pussy still bright pink from sex, mooning the landing doorway. Hermione jumped up, and whipped around to see Ginny smiling and holding one hand over Harry’s eyes. Harry had an expression of pure shock on the part of his face not hidden by Ginny’s hand. She saw this all in the fleeting second before she tripped and crashed down on Ron again.

           “OOOF. Who’s the graceful one now?” he said, and started to laugh again.

           Then Ginny started, and soon everyone was helpless. Living in the same house for over a year they had all seen each other in various states of undress, but this was the most explicitly sexual group encounter they had yet had. Hermione noted, as they regained composure, that Ginny and Harry were dressed exactly as she and Ron were, sharing a set of pajamas.

           “Was there some sort of problem? We heard some pretty loud thumping, and voices, and we thought there might be a problem, and the door was open, and you guys usually use the silencing charm, and… erm… or we wouldn’t have…”

           “Just stop talking Harry,” Ginny said sniggering. “So, what happened?”

           “Oh, the war hero here was trying to catch a mouse, and couldn’t successfully get out of bed,” Hermione said, as she got back to her feet.

           “Hey, I was… distracted.”

           “I can see that,” Harry said, and Ginny slapped his arm. “Ouch.”

           “Serves you right,” she said at Harry, and then turned back to Hermione, “can we help?”

           “I’m pretty sure in all this commotion he made it out the door,” Hermione said. “Here’s your wand hero boy, can you see him down there?”

           “’S not stopping any time soon, is it?”

           “Hmm… nope, don’t think so.”

           “Great,” Ron said, and began scanning under the bed and wardrobe with his lit wand.

           “Looks like you guys don’t need us around,” Ginny said as she led Harry from the room. “Besides, I think we need to catch up”

           “What?” Harry said, while Ginny and Hermione shared a nod and a wink.

           “Well, you can close the door on your way out, he’s not down here. Guess he’s Crooky’s problem now.”

           “Goodnight, Hermione. Goodnight, noble war hero,” Ginny said, pushing Harry ahead of her as she closed the door. She followed Harry into their room just across the landing. As she was closing their door she a very un-Hermione like giggle, and her voice saying “ _Silenc…._ ”

           The light from her wand was blinding, and the mouse bounded back for the shelter of the wardrobe. He was sure he was caught now. The door opened, and there was a loud squeak from the woman. Then they were both on the floor, and they seemed to have forgotten him, at least for the moment, and that was all he needed. The little mouse whipped around the baseboards, through the door to the landing, and along the wall to the stairs before the other couple had even made it out their door. _They won't catch me now; I've the run of the house now. I'll make it downstairs and into the bread bin. That would be nice,_ he thought as he bounded down the stairs.

           Suddenly he bumped into fur. _The Cat!!!_ In the second that it took Crookshanks to come fully awake he made his move to escape, nothing for it but to go over the side. He launched himself off the end of the step, and into the stairwell. As he landed on the carpet of a step one floor down, he heard the cat tearing down the stairs after him. He wheeled and jumped out into the stairwell again, barley ahead of the orange and white blur spiraling down the stairs.

           The thundering of paws alerted the elf to the chase. He had been in the middle of setting out the makings of breakfast before he retired. Kreacher set the sugar jar on the table, and made his way to the hallway door. He pushed it open, and a small brown streak barreled around the casing. The cat flew into the room a second later. Crookshanks had forgotten to slow his approach to the tiled floor of the kitchen, and as had happened so many times before, he slid halfway across the kitchen and slammed into one of the table legs. The sugar jar stated to rock in slow arcs, walking toward the edge of the table. The mouse was trapped along the long wall beside the table, and Crookshanks had him.

           “Hard luck mouse, this is the end of your road,” croaked the elf.

            The cat crouched for the final pounce, and then jumped at the mouse both front paws raised. At that same instant the sugar jar left the table. With less than a foot to spare the jar hit Crookshanks squarely on the head, knocking him out cold. The unconscious cat, covered in sugar, slid into the mouse and the wall.

           “Crookshanks!” shouted the elf as he ran to the cat.

           The mouse, sensing his moment, pulled himself from the cat’s fur, and made it under the icebox. Kreacher gently picked up the limp body, and apparated from the kitchen. He rematerialized with a pop at the top of the stairs, whirled to face the door that still bore the legend “Regulus Arcturus Black”, and snapped his fingers at it. A loud gong sounded inside the room, and Ron answered the door a few seconds later.

           “Are there Death Eaters outside, Kreacher?” he said as he pulled open the door.

           “No Master Ron, Crookshanks is injured!”

           “Get him in here.” Ron said, all lightness lost from his voice”

           “Crookshanks! Oh baby, are you Ok?” Hermione cried from the bed.

           “I believe he is just unconscious mistress,” and Kreacher explained what he had seen in the kitchen.

           ‘Yeah he’s breathing well, or as well as he ever does with that bashed in face of his” Ron said, as he sat on the edge of the bed, Crookshanks cradled in his arms.

           “RON!”

           “’S alright, I love your cat. You know I do”

           “Our cat, and yes I do know.” She said as she slid over to him.

           “Hand me my wand, will you? I’ll do the healing charm, you’re shaking too much”

           Hermione retrieved Ron’s wand from bedside table.

           “Getting kind of good at this Crooky, you need to be more careful. First that dog tried to bite you in half, and now this.” He took his wand and did slow circles over the cat as he muttered the healing charm.

           Crookshanks yawned, stretched, and stood up in Ron’s lap. Then he shook, and a great cloud of sugar coated everyone. Ron, Hermione, and Kreacher stared at each others sparkling white faces for a moment, and then broke apart into fits of laughter.

           “Now what the hell’s going on?” asked Ginny from the doorway. She was standing there, pajama top fully unbuttoned, wand in hand. Harry stepped up behind her, his pants tented from a huge hard on.

           Hermione and Ron took one look and were helpless.

 

 

 

           _Finis_


End file.
